


Baby, It's Cold Outside

by SandyLovesDestiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 05:25:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2839634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandyLovesDestiel/pseuds/SandyLovesDestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean can't sleep because the neighbor's Christmas lights are  too bright.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby, It's Cold Outside

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, [Angie ](http://theprofoundbond.co.vu/) <3

There was this guy in the neighborhood. Dean's been seeing him on his drives around town and trips to the grocery store and for some reason he can't stop obsessing over him. There was something about him, something different, a kind of calmness that's so different from his crazy life of being an FBI Agent. It was the thing that drew him in the most. That and his sex hair. Literally that guy's head is always in a constant state disheveled that just makes one thinks of indecent things. And it wasn't like Dean had thought anything indecent about the guy. Nope. None at all. So, after some time he starts to go on drives around town and taking trips to the grocery store just so he could get a glimpse of the guy. He never really had the guts to start a conversation and tailing the dude  to see where he lived or researching about him via his job was just plain creepy.

So as Dean aggressively pulled his blind shut, got ready for bed, his mind on the elusive stranger, and turned off the lights, he thought, what was the worst that could happen, really? Sure, Christmas was coming and if the guy end up agreeing to go out on a date with him, the whole Christmas family dinner thing would be pretty awkward, not knowing whether he should invite him or not, but other than that? He saw no trouble ahead. Well, that is that he agrees. Which is highly doubtful seeing as, well, the dude's got an air of authority about him. High and mighty like ain't no one can touch him. The way he held himself… It was kind of intimidating.

Shaking his head at his stupid second guessings, Dean tucked his hands under his pillow and hugged it tight to his head, settling down for the night.

And he would have slept fine if it wasn't for the brightly flickering lights behind his eyelids, prompting his eyes to stay open.

Thus began the challenge to try and keep his eyes open and his mind quiet so he can fall the fuck asleep because it's been a long day and why the fuck can't a person get their sleep without having to be disturbed by the fucking twinkly, flickering, bright lights coming from across the streets.

Finally having enough after two hours of turning and tossing and groaning and complaining and silently cursing people under his breathe, Dean got out of bed, threw on a bathrobe, put on his slippers and marched right out of his front door and across the street to the blinking monstrosity of a house. Seriously who the hell had that many lights draped all over their house? It was a holiday catastrophe if he ever saw one.

Practical pounding on the door and cursing under his breath at his own idiocy by not taking his leather jacket as a cold gust of wind blew by, Dean stood under the porch of a house much fancier than his and by the looks of it under all the crazy-ass lights, it was quite beautiful. Huh, how had he not noticed it before? It was literally right in front of him. And whose house was this, anyway?

Through the window's curtains, he could see the lights being turned on and his annoyance at not getting his full beauty sleep and now numb fingers came back at full force. So as the sound of metal grinding against metal echoed through the door, Dean had a full speech that he was going to unleash upon the owner of the house at the top of his lungs until the door opened and revealed the person standing behind it. Dean had his mouth open. He shut it after staring into two very distinctive pale blue eyes.

"Can I help you?" The guy asked, his expression smoothing from slight annoyance to mildly surprised.

"Yes," Dean said, clearing his throat, "Can you please turn off the lights on your house? It's a bit… much, don't you think?"

He shifted his eyes down to the ground for a moment before looking back into the other man's and catching them staring unapologetically at him.

"Ah, yes, I do apologise, my brother Gabriel was at it with one of his practical jokes again. I would have taken it down but I just don't know how to without turn off the fuse box and cutting off the electricity completely. He's quite the jokester, you see."

Dean just chuckled and shook his head. "Brothers, right? They annoy you no matter what you do."

"Yes, they do," he replied in his gravelly voice, tilting his head to the side just a bit.  "You have siblings of your own, too, I take it?"

"Yeah, one, younger, name's Sammy."

"Ahh, but somehow I doubt he's the jokester out of the two of you," he replied, not missing a beat and Dean just stared at him, surprised.

The guy kept looking at him unflinchingly.

He shook his head. "You're very cheeky."

"I wasn't trying to be cheeky," he said, brows furrowing.

"No? My bad then."

"No worries, happens all the time."

This time, Dean laughed. "You're serious."

"Yes, of course, I'm serious, why wouldn't I be?"

"Nothing, nothing, so uhh… I should go, sorry for bothering you so late," he said, crossing his arms and kind of just huddled up into himself.

"You're cold. I made you come across the streets barely dressed. Please, come in, it's cold outside. I'll make you something warm to drink and you can warm up for a while before leaving. It's the least I can do." He stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"Uhhh, you really don't - "

"But I insist."

Dean looked at him and all he saw was sincerity. A kind of soft, kind and caring gaze was what he had and it reeled him in like a moth to a flame.

And so he stepped past the threshold and into the house.

His skin welcomed the warm atmosphere with a content sigh and his eyes instinctively moved around the room that they were in.

It was all very stylishly decorated but kind of impersonal. Sure, everything was new and shiny and was placed very meticulously but it looked like something that came straight out of a housing catalogue and it was… strange.

"What would you like? Tea? Hot chocolate?" The other man asked from behind him and he replied:

"The latter would be great, thanks."

"Alright, I'll be back in a minute."

Dean turned around to stare at his retreating back. "Hey, what's your name, anyway?"

The guy stopped in the middle of his track and half-turned around. "Castiel."

"Castiel," Dean muttered under his breath and rolled it on his tongue a couple of more times.

Castiel. He could get used to that name.

After a couple of minutes, Castiel came back from the kitchen with a mug for Dean, who was standing in front of one of the kind of fancy paintings that he swore he'd never get..

"Aren't you going to have anything?" He asked as he thanked him and took the mug.

"No, tea will keep me up and hot chocolate so late in the night isn't very good for me."

"Well, you don't have to worry about the tea part," Dean joked, taking a sip and peering over the rim at Castiel and catching his confused look. "I mean me, I'm already keeping you up."

"Ah. Don't worry about it, I rarely get a chance to talk to people and this has been an… interesting experience."

Dean almost choked on the hot chocolate.

"You are certainly  something different, alright," he smiled into his mug.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Nothing. Nothing, forget about it."

Cas nodded, turning to look at the painting, tracing it with his eyes and probably getting a hell lot of better than Dean was.

"Do you know what it means?" He nodded at the painting hung on the wall with its colorful canvas and million dollars worth.

"Well, for starters you can feel the artist's desire to be noticed through the strokes of his brush. The feelings of self-doubt and insecurities through the color blend. The way this painting is proportioned. The imagery. It shows how lonely he is. It shows that he wants to be noticed, he wants to be something in this world but no one would notice him," Cas said, and when he was done, he glanced over to Dean to see him staring with his mouth gaping open. "And, that would probably true if I knew the first thing about art."

Then, Castiel's face broke into a small smile.

It made Dean burst out laughing.

"I knew I wasn't wrong about you."

"Wasn't wrong about me?" He asked, furrowing his brows once again.

"You see, I actually saw you a while back when I first moved into the town and well," he broke off, scratching his neck absentmindedly, shrugging. "Just haven't gotten a chance to talk to you that's all."

"Oh," he said simply. "So what did you thought of me?"

"I don't know…" Dean replied. "I...ah...I don't know."

"Okay…"

They lapsed into silence.

"So what's your name?" Castiel asked, glancing at Dean. "You know mine but I never got the chance to know yours."

"I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

"Novak. Castiel Novak."

"Nice to meet you, Cas, can I call you Cas?"

Cas laughed, the voice was throaty and deep and all around sexy as hell. "Of course, Dean."

"Well, it's getting late, I should go and let you get some rest."

"Of course, but Dean," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a sleeping mask and handed over to Dean/ "This should help with the lights."

"Really? A sleeping mask?"

"You'll be surprised how comfortable they are."

Shrugging, he took the thing and left, not without saying thank you and good night and turns out, Cas was right. He slept like a baby and it was safe to say that after that night, he never had to go to the grocery store alone ever again. Or on a drive. Or anywhere for that matter.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my heart stops ;3 Thanks for reading you guys, hoped you liked it :)  
> Me [tumblr](http://sheepishcas.tumblr.com/) :o


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